


there’s no comfort in the truth (pain is all you’ll find)

by voxofthevoid



Series: Hungry Hearts [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Betrayal, Dramatic Irony, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Side Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxofthevoid/pseuds/voxofthevoid
Summary: So what if Yuri's search for Viktor is at a dead-end and the press is after them both? He's not about to give up, and the locals are helpful.Especially Katsuki Yuuri.





	there’s no comfort in the truth (pain is all you’ll find)

**Author's Note:**

> Wonder how Yuri found Viktor and Yuuri at the end of Midnight Lover's chapter 11? Here's your answer.

Yuri’s face started burning the moment he turned away from Yuu- _Katsuki_.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually said all that. Fuck. He wasn't going to be able to look that guy in the face for days.

The inside of the inn was mostly vacant; the owners nowhere in sight, one of the staff mopping the floor, and a couple of patrons glued to the television. None of them paid any attention to Yuri which, after the unwanted excitement of the last few hours, was just fine with him.

It was a relief to collapse into his bed and curl around the large stuffed tiger Otabek had given him after Worlds. The questions the press had asked still banged around in his head, an irritating cacophony that had him gritting his teeth to muffle an enraged scream.

Nothing was going as it should. He'd had only vague ideas when he boarded the flight to Japan, but he had imagined that he'd land in Hasetsu, sniff out Viktor, and drag him home. Now, it had been weeks and not only was Viktor nowhere in sight but the media had finally found Yuri, intent on hounding him for answers he wouldn't give even if he had them.

It wasn’t all bad though. Yuuko and her kids were alright, and Katsuki wasn’t intolerable. He was a half-decent skater too. The way he moved...

Yuri grimaced and pushed his face into his tiger. This was no time to be thinking about Katsuki's stupid moves.

His brain took that as permission to consider how Katsuki had scaled fences and picked his way through trees to lead Yuri here, safely hidden from prying eyes. Yuri hadn't expected that from someone who looked so offensively harmless.

Katsuki hadn’t needed to do any of that but he had anyway, just like Yuuko had kept the mob at bay with a sharpness he never would have expected from someone who acted so nice.

They were why the situation wasn’t a total clusterfuck yet.

It wouldn't last. Yuri knew how persistent those hyenas could be. He had shared a rink with Viktor fucking Nikiforov, paparazzi magnet, for around a decade.

Yuri wasn’t one to give up though. He was an Olympic gold medalist for god’s sake. Quitters didn’t do shit like that. But even he had to admit that after all these days and no sign of Viktor, he was starting to lose hope. The one clue he’d found, that ratty hotel that the Viktor he knew would never have been caught dead in, had led nowhere. It was like the man had vanished into thin air.

He was still in Japan, or so Yakov said. And surely, Viktor wouldn’t lie to Yakov. Of course, there was more to Japan than this deadbeat town, and who knew where that whimsical moron had fucked off to.

_Are the rumors of Viktor Nikiforov’s passing true then?_

The question stole into his mind, as grating and insistent as it had been when he heard it.

He had a target to bitch at then. Now, it just echoed in his own skull, accompanied by the tiniest whisper of a possib-

No. Fuck no. That bastard wasn’t dead. Yuri wouldn’t let him. It didn’t matter how fucking empty Viktor had looked after his dog died, how he’d been essentially sleepwalking through the entire Winter Olympics.  He wouldn’t do that shit.

A tiny voice in his head whispered that Yuri wouldn’t be here if he was so sure of that, wouldn’t chase after Viktor like some desperate _child_ if he weren’t scared-

No, no, no.

He was not thinking that. Viktor was either in Hasetsu or somewhere else in Japan, and Yuri wouldn’t rest until he found him. It didn’t matter that Yakov was blowing up his phone. This was important, and Yuri could train just fine on his own, for a little longer at least. Even his choreography was coming along nicely; he’d show the world he hadn’t peaked at the Olympics.

He would surpass Viktor Nikiforov as the most decorated male figure skater in history, and he’d do it while the old man _watched_.

Yuri left his bed and his tiger and stormed downstairs. One of the perks of living in an inn was that food was always readily available. And maybe pork cutlet bowls weren’t in his diet plan, but Yuri was on vacation unsupervised and had a metabolism most people would kill for. It was fine.

He placed his order and settled down at a table in a corner. There were other patrons, most of them old people, but a guy a few years younger than him and one of the inn’s owners were also in the mix. They all seemed riveted by something on the TV.

He started fiddling with his phone for lack of anything to do. The restless energy that he should have been able to skate off buzzed under his skin.

He didn’t check social media.

It was the other owner that brought him his food. The smiling one; Rei, if he remembered correctly.

“Thanks,” he muttered, never knowing how to deal with her warm smiles.

“Eat, you need it. You know Yuuri-kun?”

For an instant, he thought she was referring to him and was monumentally confused, but then the slight difference in pronunciation registered. She was asking about Katsuki.

“Yeah.” He fiddled with his chopsticks, still clumsy but too stubborn to give up and use forks. “I skate at the rink. He works there.”

“Mm. Very nice boy, yes?”

Yuri shoved a piece of pork into his mouth to save himself from answering. Rei seemed unfazed by the rudeness.

He’d thought Katsuki was part of this family at first but that had quickly proven not to be the case. Maybe it was a common family name here. They still seemed familiar with him.

As if to prove that, Rei’s wife turned towards them and asked, in English for Yuri’s sake, “Yuuri-san was around? Huh, haven’t seen him and his foreigner boyfriend in a while.”

Boyfriend? _Foreigner_ boyfriend?

Katsuki had a boyfriend??

He’d never said anything.

Yuri felt like upending his steaming hot dish all over his head as that thought occurred. Of course he hadn’t said anything. They barely talked and even when they did, it was only about skating or Yuri’s search for Viktor.

Still…foreigner. Yuri hadn’t seen any other foreigners in Hasetsu.

“Does he have silver hair?” he asked numbly, an empty ritual more than anything. He’d already showed these people Viktor’s picture. They had seen him only once, and that was before he checked out of his hotel.

“No, brown,” Rei’s wife answered. What was her name again? Chi? Chiyo? No, something –ko. Chihoko? No, Chiyoko. “Handsome guy. Came here with Yuuri a few times. Then last two weeks, nothing.”

Yuri had been here for two weeks. That was some odd timing. But that must be a coincidence.

Rei left him with a last smile, and Chiyoko turned back to her friends, leaving Yuri with delicious food and little appetitive to enjoy it.

A light touch on his elbow drew in attention.

It was the young guy who had, for some reason, scooted closer to Yuri. There was a nervous smile on his lips.

The shithead better not be planning hit on Yuri. He didn’t have time for this.

“You want to see him?” the guy asked in clear English. “You’re looking for a foreigner too, right?”

Yes, but not any foreigner. Yuri opened his mouth to say as much, but the guy was already pulling out his phone. And Yuri was maybe possibly a little curious to see what Katsuki’s boyfriend looked like.

The guy shoved his phone at Yuri, screen showing what was obviously Yu-topia’s interior, dimly lit and cozy.

The first vague glance at the picture made it obvious that it was taken without the couple’s permission; awkwardly angled and zoomed to capture a sickeningly sweet moment. Distaste made his lips twist, and he was about to hand back the phone with a caustic comment or two when his eyes caught on the face of the man Katsuki was feeding.

He did have brown hair.

But Yuri would know those brilliant blue eyes anywhere, even when they were crinkled with a kind of joy that he had never, ever seen Viktor express.

Still, he brought the screen closer to his face and squinted, disbelieving that Katsuki’s boyfriend could be _Viktor Nikiforov_.

Close examination only made the acidic tightness in his chest grow. It was Viktor. Viktor in a lousy wig and some make-up, but that couldn’t fool someone who had passive aggressively worshipped this man since before he knew how tell a salchow from a flip.

“They’re cute, right? Hey, are you al-”

Yuri’s head shot up. The guy flinched.

He realized he was shaking.

Viktor and _Katsuki_. Katsuki and _Viktor_.

“Send this to me. _Now_.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly just an attempt to figure out if I can write Yuri. I'm not really satisfied, but this isn't going to get any better so...


End file.
